Deadly Virtues
by MissMelysse
Summary: Runs concurrently with Chapter 20 (Noel, Part II) of Crush III: Sostenuto. Lore has many bits of pop culture in his memory banks. Why does the one at the surface have to be a song from CAMELOT? Oneshot. Lore. Data/Zoe implied.


**Deadly Virtues**

_**(Continuity Note:**__ This piece runs concurrently with chapter 20 ("Noel, Part II") of __Crush III: Sostenuto__, but it takes place all in the time Lore is holding Zoe over the balcony.__**)**_

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**Stardate 47001.24  
(Thursday, 1 January 2070, 10:55 hours, local time)  
Planet of the Borg**

_The seven deadly virtues, those ghastly little traps  
Oh no, my liege, they were not meant for me  
Those seven deadly virtues were made for other chaps  
Who love a life of failure and ennui_

Lore had a lot of human popular culture running through his head. The old man, his father, Often-Wrong Soong, had loved twentieth-century science fiction, and as a result he had a lot of Heinlein and Clarke and Asimov – of _course_ Asimov (he of the Three Rules of Robotics) - in his memory banks. But his mother had added her own preferences as well. Vivaldi. Shakespeare. And Musicals.

Goddamned fucking _musicals. _

Not even the edgy musicals either. No, Julianna O'Donnell Soong hadn't bothered to embrace things like _Stomp Da Yard _or _Rent_ or even the older cesspool of human indecency known as _O! Calcutta. _In some perverse refusal to acknowledge that theatre of any kind even existed after 1966, his mother (and he couldn't _wait_ til Data found out they'd had a mother, albeit one who cruelly abandoned the Soong Brothers to save her own skin)'s favorite musical had been _Camelot. _

Of course, he could see the parallels. The Old Man was Arthur. She was Guinevere. And he… well, he was Mordred, he supposed. Arthur's bastard son. He wasn't technically a bastard, of course – they'd built him together – but since he wasn't born of any woman, he supposed it fit.

But all that was beside the point.

The point.

The fucking _point_ was that Mordred's solo piece, a patter song full of snark and bitterness, had been running through his head – right there on the surface – all goddamned day.

Right now, for example, he was manhandling the Pigeon out to the balcony. He'd grabbed her by her hair – her wild chestnut hair – and her arm and forced her to move with him. He wasn't hurting her, exactly, but god, he wanted to…

Well, the truth was… he wanted to bury himself inside her and fuck her til she was screaming his name.

But dropping her off the balcony to make a point… that would be almost as satisfying.

_Take courage; now there's a sport  
An invitation to the state of rigor mort  
And purity, a noble yen  
And very restful every now and then_

As they arrived on the balcony, he heard his brother speaking with Picard. Of course, it would be Picard, come to rescue his ersatz son and future daughter-in-law. Not that the wedding would ever happen. Not if Lore knew humans as well as he thought he did. They'd never let Pigeon marry a machine.

The pigeon – Zoe – wasn't struggling. Probably, she was straining to hear the conversation he was listening to with no effort. Android hearing, and all that.

"But Data, aren't good and bad, right and wrong, functions of your ethical program?" Picard would never use force. He fought with wit and words.

"I do not require a subroutine to know the difference."

"Then, tell me, Data, is it good what you're doing to Geordi? Is it good what you and Lore are doing to the Borg? Is it good that you are keeping Zoe here, away from the life she is meant to have?"

"She is my fiancée."

"And she loves you, Data. I know that, but if you love her, shouldn't you choose what is truly good?"

"You are… confusing me."

"No, Data. You are confused, my friend, but it is not me doing it. It's Lore."

But Data didn't call for _him_… he called for Zoe. (His Pigeon)

"She's right here, brother," he said. It wasn't quite the entrance he'd wanted, but, eh, it would do. You can't always get what you want, (wasn't that a human song, also? Fuck!) even when you're an android supervillain.

He held the girl – except she wasn't a girl anymore; she was all woman – over the edge of the balcony. Felt her try to rest her foot on the balustrade – and fail. She wasn't kicking or screaming. She was almost calm. Maybe she thought he wouldn't really drop her. Maybe she'd just had enough…

Their earlier chat had seemed to resolve something for her. She'd asked about Rebecca – his 'Becca – his first human lover. She'd asked and he'd told too much, losing himself a little in the process, but also admiring her courage. The whole time she'd been here, she'd been the strong one and Data had been weak. Interesting. He wanted to study their relationship. He wanted to steal her. He wanted… he _wanted_.

He and Rebecca… they'd been each other's first lovers. He'd felt pure when he was with her. Pure as his brother always seemed. But now… now none of them were pure. Zoe hadn't been a virgin when he'd… when he'd done the thing that broke him… when he'd broken the future he'd hoped to have, if he could've just made her _see – _that had surprised him. She'd been so young.

But now she was grown, and she and Data were every bit as enthusiastic as he and Rebecca had been. (Yeah, he'd watched. Could you blame him? News feeds and entertainment channels were free, but porn – good porn – required access codes and ID chits. And Lore only wanted the best. You might say he was a connoisseur.)

_I find humility means to be hurt  
It's not the earth the meek inherit, it's the dirt  
Honesty is fatal, it should be taboo  
Diligence, a fate I would hate  
If charity means giving, I give it to you  
And fidelity is only for your mate  
_

"She's right here, ready to assist me in a most important ceremony," he didn't just say it. He was practically singing it. Taunting Data. Taunting Picard. "You must prove yourself to me, Data. You have a choice… kill Picard or take a shot at me and risk losing your love."

His brother had claimed to love the girl. The woman. The Pigeon. Zoe. Claimed to love her. Claimed devotion to her. He'd shown humility in the way he'd sought strength and comfort from his young fiancée. Lore didn't think he could ever let himself be that open, that vulnerable, not with anyone.

He'd tried… with Rebecca.

And with Pig- Zoe – earlier, he'd been honest. Brutally honest. He'd enjoyed the sex, sure, but the _killing_ – that was fun. That was pure joy.

The way he figured it, those dead girls had been given a gift when he'd bedded them. Android thoroughness. Android inventiveness. Android stamina. They'd screamed in ecstasy before they'd screamed in horror.

Lore remembered the way they tasted… Lust on their skin. Fear in their eyes. He could _taste_ their emotions. He wondered if Data had learned that trick. To tell by the way her chemistry trained how the Pigeon was really feeling.

(Fear. Fear and Pity. That's what he'd tasted on her tender, young flesh. He wondered if she pitied him now, or just hated him. He wondered why he cared.)

He watched as Data raised his phaser at the captain. Watched as his brother's expression sharpened.

"You don't have to do this, Lore." Zoe's mouth. Rebecca's voice. "You don't have to drop her…" and now that voice was coming from his other side. He turned slightly, expecting a ghost, seeing nothing. "Lore, you don't have to…"

Lore closed his eyes for just a second. Zoe hadn't spoken. He was… hearing things. He'd heard Rebecca a lot since Phil, since Pigeon, since Melona, since… and he'd sent her such nice presents… gifts to woo, gifts to make amends… Rebecca would have understood.

Zoe held herself still, but he heard her urging his not-quite-twin, "Data, shoot him. Shoot Lore. He won't kill me."

Rebecca _was _a ghost.

This was real.

"You will be harmed if you fall." Android diligence. Warn of the possible outcomes. Let the victim decide her fate.

"It's one story, Data. I'll live through it." "Shoot him. End this."

He opened his mouth to tell her to _Shut the fuck up! _But that's not what came out. Instead, he coaxed, "Don't do it, Data. Ignore the girl. Take your place with me. Without me, you'll never have emotion again, Data. Kill your captain."

_You'll never find a virtue unstatusing my quo  
Or making my Beelzebubble burst  
Let others take the high road, I will take the low  
I cannot wait to rush in where angels fear to go  
With all those seven deadly virtues  
Free and happy little me has not been cursed_

The song in his head merged with the whine of phasers. He felt the blast. He dropped the girl. He ran.

_Free and happy little me. _

But he wasn't. He wasn't happy. He hadn't been happy in… ever… really.

And he knew… he knew now… he'd never be free.

Lore wasn't certain why he ran to the lab, but that's where he is, bleeding yellow… ichor… he thinks of his fluids as ichor. Androids and dragons. His Camelot of Borg has fallen. Let the white knight kill the black dragon now.

"Lore," Data made his name into a greeting, a warning, a judgement.

But he couldn't cave in. Couldn't surrender. "You should be careful with that, Brother. Somebody could get hurt."

"What are you doing?" That was Data, still diligent. The consummate officer, even after… everything.

"I've got a way out here. You should come with me. Leave the girl or take her if she lived. There's room for three. I mean, we don't need anyone else, but I know you're attached to her. I'll make it worth your while… give you the chip our father made."

"The chip you _stole_," Data said, and the dig told him the bitterest truth: he'd been played. Data was never his. Pure, shining, noble Data.

He chuckled. "Borrowed. I'll give it back. It's not just emotions, you know. It has memories. Memories our father wanted you to have." He lifted his thumbnail and sent a combo-burst of emotion – rage, guilt, fear – to the other android.

And Data remained calm. Stoic.

_Fuck! _

"Lore, I must deactivate you now."

"Without me… you will… you will…" but he didn't finish the sentence. Instead, he sings: "_Free and happy little me has not been cursed." _

"You leave me no other choice," he heard Data say, and then he saw his brother take aim, his face full of resolve.

"I love you, Brother," Lore whispered. He caught the edge of the phaser blast, and then he felt himself fading, and oddly, in that moment, all the music was gone, and he remembered playing chess with his father.

"Goodbye, Lore," Data said as the second blast coursed through him.

White takes the board. Black leaves the field.

The king is dead; long live the king.

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**Notes:** Recognizable dialogue is from "Descent, Part II" and chapter 20 of _Crush III: Sostenuto_. Song lyrics are from "The Seven Deadly Virtues," from the musical _Camelot, _written by Alan Jay Lerner and Frederick Loewe. Thanks to **javanyet **for the inspiration.


End file.
